Read Online The Matlock Paper by Robert Ludlum - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert Ludlum
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white pills in the Chinese box. There were at least fifty to sixty doses of Seconal.
Ginny jumped out of the chair and squealed. “I
love
it! It’s the pinky-groovy!”
“Beats the hell out of brandy,” added Matlock.
“We’ll trip. Not too much, old man. Limit’s five. That’s the house rules for new old friends.”
The next two hours were blurred for James Matlock, but not as blurred as they were for the Beesons. The history instructor and his wife quickly reached their “highs” with the five pills—as would have Matlock had he not been able to pocket the final three while pretending to have swallowed them. Once on the first plateau, it wasn’t too hard for Matlock to imitate his companions and then convince Beeson to go for another dosage.
“Where’s the almighty discretion, Doctor?” chuckled Beeson, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, reaching occasionally for one of his wife’s legs.
“You’re better friends than I thought you were.”
“Just the
beginning
of a beautiful,
beautiful
friendship.” The young wife slowly reclined on the couch and giggled. She seemed to writhe and put her right hand on her husband’s head, pushing his hair forward.
Beeson laughed with less control than he had shown earlier and rose from the floor. “I’ll get the magic then.”
When Beeson walked into his study, Matlock watched his wife. There was no mistaking her action. She looked at Matlock, opened her mouth slowly, and pushed her tongue out at him. Matlock realized that one of Seconal’s side effects was showing. As was most of Virginia Beeson.
The second dosage was agreed to be three, and Matlock was now easily able to fake it. Beeson turned on his stereo and played a recording of “Carmina Burana.” In fifteen minutes Ginny Beeson was sitting on Matlock’s lap, intermittently rubbing herselfagainst his groin. Her husband was spread out in front of the stereo speakers, which were on either side of the turntable. Matlock spoke as though exhaling, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
“These are some of the best I’ve had, Archie.… Where? Where’s the supply from?”
“Probably the same as yours, old man.” Beeson turned over and looked at Matlock and his wife. He laughed. “Now, I don’t know what you mean. The magic or the girl on your lap. Watch her, Doctor. She’s a minx.”
“No kidding. Your pills are a better grade than mine and my grass barely passed inspection. Where? Be a good friend.”
“You’re funny, man. You keep asking. Do I ask you? No.… It’s not polite.… Play with Ginny. Let me listen.” Beeson rolled back over face down on the floor.
The girl on Matlock’s lap suddenly put her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. She put her head to the side of his face and began kissing his ears. Matlock wondered what would happen if he lifted her out of the chair and carried her into the bedroom. He wondered, but he didn’t want to find out. Not then. Ralph Loring had not been murdered to increase his, Matlock’s, sex life.
“Let me try one of your joints. Let me see just how advanced your taste is. You may be a phony, Archie.”
Suddenly Beeson sat up and stared at Matlock. He wasn’t concerned with his wife. Something in Matlock’s voice seemed to trigger an instinctive doubt. Or was it the words? Or was it the too normal pattern of speech Matlock used? The English professor thought of all these things as he returned Beeson’s look over the girl’s shoulder. Archie Beeson was suddenly aman warned, and Matlock wasn’t sure why. Beeson spoke haltingly.
“Certainly, old man.… Ginny, don’t annoy Jim.” He began to rise.
“Pinky groovy …”
“I’ve got several in the kitchen.… I’m not sure where but I’ll look. Ginny, I told you not to tease Jim.… Be nice to him, be good to him.” Beeson kept staring at Matlock, his eyes wide from the Seconal, his lips parted, the muscles of his face beyond
Ginny jumped out of the chair and squealed. “I
love
it! It’s the pinky-groovy!”
“Beats the hell out of brandy,” added Matlock.
“We’ll trip. Not too much, old man. Limit’s five. That’s the house rules for new old friends.”
The next two hours were blurred for James Matlock, but not as blurred as they were for the Beesons. The history instructor and his wife quickly reached their “highs” with the five pills—as would have Matlock had he not been able to pocket the final three while pretending to have swallowed them. Once on the first plateau, it wasn’t too hard for Matlock to imitate his companions and then convince Beeson to go for another dosage.
“Where’s the almighty discretion, Doctor?” chuckled Beeson, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, reaching occasionally for one of his wife’s legs.
“You’re better friends than I thought you were.”
“Just the
beginning
of a beautiful,
beautiful
friendship.” The young wife slowly reclined on the couch and giggled. She seemed to writhe and put her right hand on her husband’s head, pushing his hair forward.
Beeson laughed with less control than he had shown earlier and rose from the floor. “I’ll get the magic then.”
When Beeson walked into his study, Matlock watched his wife. There was no mistaking her action. She looked at Matlock, opened her mouth slowly, and pushed her tongue out at him. Matlock realized that one of Seconal’s side effects was showing. As was most of Virginia Beeson.
The second dosage was agreed to be three, and Matlock was now easily able to fake it. Beeson turned on his stereo and played a recording of “Carmina Burana.” In fifteen minutes Ginny Beeson was sitting on Matlock’s lap, intermittently rubbing herselfagainst his groin. Her husband was spread out in front of the stereo speakers, which were on either side of the turntable. Matlock spoke as though exhaling, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
“These are some of the best I’ve had, Archie.… Where? Where’s the supply from?”
“Probably the same as yours, old man.” Beeson turned over and looked at Matlock and his wife. He laughed. “Now, I don’t know what you mean. The magic or the girl on your lap. Watch her, Doctor. She’s a minx.”
“No kidding. Your pills are a better grade than mine and my grass barely passed inspection. Where? Be a good friend.”
“You’re funny, man. You keep asking. Do I ask you? No.… It’s not polite.… Play with Ginny. Let me listen.” Beeson rolled back over face down on the floor.
The girl on Matlock’s lap suddenly put her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. She put her head to the side of his face and began kissing his ears. Matlock wondered what would happen if he lifted her out of the chair and carried her into the bedroom. He wondered, but he didn’t want to find out. Not then. Ralph Loring had not been murdered to increase his, Matlock’s, sex life.
“Let me try one of your joints. Let me see just how advanced your taste is. You may be a phony, Archie.”
Suddenly Beeson sat up and stared at Matlock. He wasn’t concerned with his wife. Something in Matlock’s voice seemed to trigger an instinctive doubt. Or was it the words? Or was it the too normal pattern of speech Matlock used? The English professor thought of all these things as he returned Beeson’s look over the girl’s shoulder. Archie Beeson was suddenly aman warned, and Matlock wasn’t sure why. Beeson spoke haltingly.
“Certainly, old man.… Ginny, don’t annoy Jim.” He began to rise.
“Pinky groovy …”
“I’ve got several in the kitchen.… I’m not sure where but I’ll look. Ginny, I told you not to tease Jim.… Be nice to him, be good to him.” Beeson kept staring at Matlock, his eyes wide from the Seconal, his lips parted, the muscles of his face beyond
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